Desiree's POV
Married life—this lie—appears to be easier than I expected. Or maybe I'm speaking too soon? It's been three weeks since I moved into the estate and a month since our marriage. I haven't seen much of Aizen since the move. He's staying in a separate property in Tokyo for two weeks now. He visits at least once a week, but that's about it.
Hikaru tells me that Aizen's drowning in problems right now regarding the business. Or should I say businesses? They have too many that I can't keep up. She said it's essential that he reside in Tokyo for now while handling it because it's too much of a hassle to drive from the Estate to the main office.
While Aizen is living his corporate life, I'm trapped in his castle. Well, it's not that bad. I'm back in school—online school, that is. He made it clear that I am to finish my studies even if it kills me. I have a lot of free time to tackle my writing and improve my health.
I lost a significant amount of weight since meeting him for the first time and developed bulimia. So far, I haven't vomited since the wedding. I'm trying my best to stay healthy, so I started eating right and developed a good exercise routine. I found out that Pilates works well for me. I also go for morning runs at least twice a week and I swim every day.
Other than that, I have nothing to do. Hikaru gave me an overview of when I'm needed to make appearances. She also oriented me with the tasks I might receive as Aizen's wife. Some of them being charity work and organizing functions. I'm also obligated to be part of high society since I'm the wife of one of the richest people in the world.
"Ms. Desiree," Hikaru announced, rapping lightly on my door, her expression tinged with nervousness.
I acknowledged her with a nod. "What's wrong?" I inquired, concern lacing my tone. "You seem rather pale."
"The chairman is asking for you," Hikaru replied, her voice slightly trembling. "He wants to set up an appointment for lunch."
"Oh?" I asked, surprised but not alarmed. Despite his position of authority within the company, my encounters with Mr. Nara had always been pleasant. Back in my high school days in Vietnam, he had frequented the café where I worked, always gracious and down-to-earth. Even after Aizen's formal introduction, Mr. Nara's demeanor remained approachable, fostering a sense of ease in our interactions.
"Mr. Aizen might not be happy about that," Hikaru explained with a hint of apprehension. "He prefers that all engagements involving his father and those he conducts business with be overseen by him. However, I'm in no position to refuse the chairman. Would you like me to call Mr. Aizen?"
"It's just lunch, Hikaru," I reassured her, offering a warm smile. "I don't believe the Chairman would pry into my personal affairs. If he had suspicions, they would have arisen during Aizen's introduction. I can handle it. There's no need to involve Mr. Aizen at this stage."
Hikaru nodded. "We'll be leaving in three hours," she informed me, her voice steady despite the weight of the message. "Our destination is Haru no Yume."
"Got it," I acknowledged with a smile, appreciating her efficiency.
I do wonder… is it wise not to call Aizen? It's just lunch, anyway. What's the harm? I've had great conversations with the Chairman in the past, long before my reunion with Aizen.
I glanced at my phone. No call. No text. Nothing at all from my fake husband… Why should I call him then?
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sharp bark of my dog as she leaped into my arms. She was a petite white Pomeranian, much like myself, without a mate. My parents often joked that she should find love and experience motherhood, but who were we to dictate her destiny? Despite having a companion once, she showed no interest in mating and instead asserted her dominance by bullying him and stealing his food. However, when he passed away, she seemed genuinely saddened. Perhaps, like me, she was destined for solitude.
"Hello love," I greeted, running my fingers through her fur. Since arriving in Japan, she had noticeably put on weight and developed a taste for luxury. When Aizen presented her to me, she already wore an extravagant collar made of white gold, adorned with a locket containing my picture, and encrusted with diamonds.
It's funny. Aizen is a cat person, yet he still made the effort to bring her to me. I chuckled softly, recalling the unusual sight. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind him. Mochi is usually quite aggressive towards everyone but me. I was rather taken aback to see her not attacking or biting him.
"Your daddy is somewhere in Tokyo, I assume," I said to her, gently rubbing her furry belly. "Well, your fake dad. Our marriage is a charade, after all."
She let out a bark, as if in agreement. Sometimes, I fancied she understood my musings.
"We don't like him, okay? Next time, you should bite him hard," I advised, half-jokingly. "You're a terrible judge of character, you know? Why do you cozy up to the wrong people? This reminds me of that time with Vance… You thought he was a good guy too, didn't you? Turned out, he was just another wrong choice."
Time whisked me away, and before I knew it, I found myself at the restaurant's doorstep. I had chosen a light blue two-piece suit, a subtle blend of sophistication and femininity. The blazer hugged my figure just right, accompanied by a matching skirt that fell gracefully just above my knee. Beneath, a crisp white shirt peeked out, adorned with a delicate black bow at the collar, adding a touch of charm to the ensemble. With each step in my white stilettos, I exuded confidence, every stride a testament to my determination. My choice of accessories was modest yet refined—a simple set of pearl and diamond jewelry adorned my ears and neck, adding a subtle glimmer to the overall look. As for my hair, I let it cascade down my back in silky strands, accented by diamond hair slides adorning the left side of my face, a subtle accent to frame my features.
To me, beauty is a weapon—a tool to navigate the complexities of life. Yet, it's a concept I've grappled with, often feeling insecure about my own features. My journey with self-confidence has been a tumultuous one, marked by moments of doubt and insecurity. Dressing myself, meticulously selecting each garment and accessory, serves as my armor against the world. It's a way to shield myself from the vulnerabilities of my own social awkwardness, a shield forged from fabrics and threads, woven together with the hope of projecting an image of confidence and poise, even when I feel anything but.
"Please follow me," Hikaru beckoned, her demeanor graceful as she guided me through the opulent interior. The ambiance exuded luxury, every detail meticulously crafted to create an atmosphere of refinement.
We arrived at a private room where the Chairman awaited, engrossed in a book. "Chairman," Hikaru greeted with a respectful bow, her demeanor deferential.
Turning to me, she added, "I'll return to escort you once your meeting concludes. Enjoy your time, Ms. Desiree." With a final bow to the Chairman, she departed, leaving me alone in the presence of the esteemed host.
I met his gaze, bowing in respect. "Chairman," I greeted warmly as I made my approach.
The Chairman appeared surprisingly youthful despite his age, his vitality evident in his demeanor. His stature commanded respect, his tall frame accentuated by a mix of black and silver hair, reminiscent of Aizen's own distinguished features. However, unlike Aizen's often intimidating presence, the Chairman exuded a sense of warmth and approachability. His choice of eyewear, a pair of glasses, added a touch of familiarity, reminiscent of the youthful fathers depicted in the manhwas I had read.
He greeted me with a warm smile, his demeanor inviting as he gestured for me to take a seat across from him. "Please, call me father, Desiree," he insisted in a tone that carried both warmth and authority. "We're family now, after all."
Accepting his invitation, I nodded graciously, settling into my seat. "Of course, Father," I replied respectfully, acknowledging the newfound bond between us.
"Aizen hasn't been home much, has he?" he observed with a tinge of sorrow in his tone. "I apologize. My son thrives in business and power. It's all he ever thinks of. Success and wealth. He often forgets what's most important in life."
"Is that why you made it a requirement for him to marry before officially handing him the business?" I inquired, my curiosity getting the better of me. Quickly realizing the potential impertinence of my question, I covered my mouth. "Apologies, Father. I didn't mean to…"
The Chairman chuckled warmly, shaking his head in dismissal. "No need for apologies," he reassured me, his demeanor relaxed and amiable. "I enjoy our conversations. You bring a refreshing informality to our discussions." Regaining his composure, he continued, "Yes, I suppose that's one of the reasons. I asked him to choose someone he could truly fall for, or I would have chosen for him."
Well, I can assure him that's not why he chose me.
The chairman continued, "How do you find the estate so far? Is it to your liking?" His eyes held a genuine curiosity, eager to hear my thoughts on the matter.
"It's truly magnificent, Father," I began, my words measured and sincere. "I can't deny its beauty—it surpasses any residence I've ever known. However, I must admit that such opulence makes me feel somewhat uneasy. It's unfamiliar territory for me, but I'm certain I'll adapt in time. Please understand, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or critical. As you're aware, I come from more humble beginnings. This lifestyle is entirely new to me, and I'm still finding my footing."
"That's not a problem at all," he says with a gentle smile, his demeanor comforting. "Take your time. Anyway, I'd like to hear about your relationship with my son. I've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. I couldn't ask when Aizen is around. He's busy, so I took the opportunity. Hehehe…"
I gulped nervously, my anxiety rising. He couldn't possibly know about the contract, right? My palms felt clammy and I could feel sweat trickling down my ear. Attempting to mask my unease, I let out a nervous laugh, accompanied by a sheepish smile. "What would you like to know, Father?"
He grinned mischievously. "When do you plan on giving me a grandson?" he asked jokingly.
I almost choked on my tea upon hearing those words.
He laughed almost hysterically at my reaction. "I was joking!" he says, "I'm not rushing you, although it would be nice to have a grandchild running around. Anyway, I wanted to ask about the nature of your relationship. I'm no fool, and we all know that love isn't the first reason he proposed."
"No kidding," I muttered, feeling a mix of surprise and skepticism.
"Although it could be why he chose you," he says, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I remember seeing a picture of you from his mother when you were children. She mentioned that you were his first crush," he chuckled at the memory. "Honestly, you're the only girl he ever mentioned to his mother and grandmother. That was when you were children… My son has dated before, but he was never in love. It was mostly business. So, you were the only girl he had ever mentioned to his family. It was upon meeting you officially as his 'girlfriend' and hearing your history that I recognized you as the girl from the photo."
He's joking, right?
The chairman continued, , amusement evident in his tone. "You were the one who gifted him those posters, weren't you?" he inquired. "I recall his mother's laughter upon discovering them hanging on the ceiling above his bed. He even brought them with him to Japan during high school."
"That was me," I admitted, a touch of nostalgia coloring my words. "Although that feels like a lifetime ago…" Memories flooded back, momentarily transporting me to a different time. "To answer your question, he treats me well."
The chairman arched an incredulous eyebrow. "Is that all?" he pressed.
I sighed, feeling the weight of honesty settle upon me. "Not entirely," I confessed, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "Your son can be quite a handful! He's relentless with his teasing, as if he never outgrew his teenage antics. Sometimes, I wonder if his maturity stopped evolving at thirteen!" My voice rose with each word, my hand instinctively clenching into a fist. "He's always playing mind games, leaving me second-guessing his intentions. It's infuriating! I swear, he must have a malfunctioning brain—constantly oscillating between warmth and coldness. He's impossible to read!"
The chairman chuckled, his amusement evident. "Please, go on," he urged, clearly entertained by my candid revelations.
"He treats me well, yet simultaneously manages to drive me up the wall," I continued, a mixture of exasperation and fondness in my voice. "Does he like me, want me, or hate me? can never tell! And his communication—or lack thereof—only adds to the confusion. One moment, he's distant; the next, he's suddenly there, as if nothing has changed. God, I swear, he drives me insane! I don't understand how women find him attractive. He's a jerk. Only that bastard can infuriate me like this." I took a sip of tea, collecting my thoughts.. "Father, your son is the most confusing person I've met in my entire life! He is the epitome of enigma. He doesn't call or text. Then he pops out of nowhere!" I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. "He's like a ghost."
"Really?"
"Absolutely!" I enthused, carried away by my own chatter. But then, a hand reached over my shoulder, casting a sudden chill that sent shivers down my spine. I swallowed hard, my nerves tangling as I turned to face the looming figure behind me. "Aizen!" I greeted, forcing a smile despite the unease creeping over me.
Aizen's demeanor was icy, his expression devoid of warmth. He leaned in closer, his gaze piercing through me like a sharpened blade. "So, I'm a ghost now?" he questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm and irritation.
"Aizen!" the chairman interjected cheerfully, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Take a seat!"
Aizen's cold gaze shifted momentarily to his father before returning to me. "I'd appreciate it if you refrained from discussing me behind my back," he remarked icily, nudging me aside as he settled into the seat beside me.
Panic gripped me. This is bad. I didn't know he was coming!
"You should've called," the Chairman remarked. "How did you find us, anyway?"
"I have my ways," Aizen replied cryptically. He leaned closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder and wrapping his arms around me.
His sudden display of affection made me uncomfortable. I tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong. "Get off, will you?" I demanded, still struggling to free myself. "I just told your father how much of a bully you are, so you don't have to act like the perfect husband now!"
Aizen tightened his hold on me, unmoved by my protests. "Doesn't matter. He knows I'm no saint," he stated calmly. "I'm sure my father appreciates whatever insight he can glean about our relationship."
Lunch became incredibly awkward with Aizen's sudden appearance. Despite the discomfort, the food was exceptional, a delightful fusion of Italian and Japanese cuisine. However, Aizen's presence grated on my nerves. He insisted on controlling my every bite, even going so far as to feed me himself. What a nuisance!
Unfortunately, the Chairman and I didn't have the chance to delve into the topic he wanted to discuss. But perhaps it's just as well. I shouldn't be forming close attachments to anyone, especially considering my impending departure in five years. So, with respect, I bid the Chairman farewell and joined Aizen in his car.
As soon as the car door closed, Aizen's hands pinned me against my seat, his gaze intense and unsettling. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that this was going to be a long ride home.